Chapter 6 #2
Murtagh McKenzie sat on his seat opposite the entrance, slightly raised from the floor.
He watched them enter, and if he was surprised or bothered by the extra people who had come along, it did not show on his stony face.
His eyes glinted with something that Maeve didn't like.
As their little group walked through the hall toward him, Maeve noticed that the walls were lined with men—with soldiers.
Their shadows seemed to lengthen as they walked by, and Murtagh McKenzie wore a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.
Maeve's hand lingered over the hidden dagger she kept in an inner pocket in her skirt. She wondered if Cailean had remembered to bring her knife.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was seeing ghosts.
But she was prepared for the worst. No matter what.
Breana was a capable rider. It had been one of the few things she was permitted to do for fun throughout her childhood, providing she stayed within the grounds of O'Sullivan castle.
It had always been her refuge, the only illusion of freedom that she had ever experienced through her youth.
She was glad now for all those hours she'd spent on horseback as she and Eoin hurtled through the Highlands along the path that Maeve and Cailean must have taken not so long ago.
Breana's mind was focused hard on Maeve and what might be happening to her sister even at this moment.
They'd stopped for an hour to allow the horses some rest, food, and water.
Breana had wanted to keep going, but Eoin had managed to convince her that they would be no use to anyone if their horses collapsed before they arrived or, indeed, if Eoin and Breana themselves were starved and tired half to death.
Eoin was poring over a map which Breana had been updating as they went, a small frown furrowing his brow.
Breana watched him, his dark auburn hair shimmering red in the light he was using to read.
He looked in her mind like a fae prince from a tale, tall and slim and boyish, and she idly imagined him spiriting her away from the stress she felt at the state of the world around her.
"She'll be alright," Eoin said without looking up, as if he could feel her eyes upon him.
Breana chewed on the hard biscuit they'd brought in their pack, not answering. She wondered if Eoin was trying to convince her, or to convince himself.
"She will be," Eoin insisted. He looked up with those big, honest eyes, and she felt herself drawn into them. A warmth settled in her stomach like a flickering flame, but it wasn't enough to burn away all the doubt and fear inside. "They all will. Maeve is strong, stronger than anyone kens."
Breana smiled slightly at that. "Ye dinnae need tae tell me how strong me sister is," she said at last. "She always has been, since she was a bairn. Our father used tae…he'd beat her, like a boy, because she'd talk back tae him like one."
Eoin grimaced, but Breana simply kept talking. She didn't have the term or energy to be overly sensitive about her past, not anymore. This beautiful country was a battlefield, one that her own father had helped create, and her own childhood was just one casualty in millions.
"Nessa, meanwhile, was the perfect daughter.
She was everythin' me father ever wanted her tae be, and me mother as well.
God only kens how she managed to do it. I sometimes wonder if she was under the most pressure out of all of us.
" Breana sighed. "But me… I've always been on the sidelines.
The eldest, but the least interestin'. The least effective. The least useful."
"Breana…"
"I joined the rebellion nae just because Maeve saved me, but because I truly want tae make a difference.
Nae matter how I try, though, I feel like I'm still just the warrior woman's sister," Breana went on.
"The one who needs savin'. The one who needs help.
I've nae a brave bone in me body." Tears filled her eyes.
"That's enough." Eoin folded his arms. "Breana, listen tae yerself.
" He tapped the map in front of him. "As much as Maeve is important tae me, do ye think she'd be able tae do somethin' like this?
Or yer other sister? Maeve is a warrior, and it sounds like Nessa is a woman of politics, but ye… ye are an artist."
"What?"
He smiled. "None of them would have had the attention tae detail, the memory, and the artistry tae do this. Cartography is a mystery tae a man like me, but ye…ye make it look as easy as breathin'. Dinnae underestimate yerself."
"Other people can make maps."
"Other people can swing a sword," Eoin replied. "Does that make what Maeve can do less wonderful? Does that make the strength of the warriors in our rebellion less important?"
Breana smiled sadly at the enthusiasm in his voice.
He truly believed the words he was saying, and yet he was missing the point.
"They're brave. They all have a kind of bravery that I'll never had.
Maeve was the one who could stand up tae our father, the one who escaped Darach Castle without help, the one who—"
"Maeve had help. I helped her, and Ann as well," Eoin protested. "I'm nae sayin' she wasnae brave—she is—but so are ye."
"I'm nae. I never spoke up when yer father had ye shut in the dungeons. I never tried tae get away when he made me his wife." Breana wiped her eyes. "I wish I was better."
Eoin carefully rolled up the map and stashed it away.
He made his way toward her, then put his hand out to gently touch her cheek.
"If ye could only see what I see, Breana.
Bravery isnae just the kinds of things ye're describin'.
Bravery is a lass who'd sneak down tae the dungeons tae bring me and the other prisoners morsels of food.
It's a woman who kent how tae bide her time even in the worst of circumstances, holdin' ontae hope that somethin' better would come. "
Breana stared up at him, leaning against the touch of his cold hand against her cheek. It gave her a surge of energy, a strange kind of internal peace that somehow also started her heart racing. "I…"
"Bravery is a woman who would abandon her new safety just tae ride out intae the night and save her sister.
Nae matter the personal cost tae herself.
" Eoin leaned down and pressed his lips against her forehead.
It was a soft, chaste kiss, yet it sent shocks through Breana's whole body, and part of her suddenly wondered what it would be like if she tilted her head upward and captured his lips with her own.
But she wasn't that brave. Not yet. "Thank ye," she said instead. "Let's get movin'. We've a lot of ground still tae cover."
As dawn broke, Breana expected that she'd feel exhausted, but she was more alert than she'd ever been as they arrived at the perimeter of the McKenzie lands.
They'd spent the last few hours discussing with each other the various ways they could approach the castle without alerting anyone inside; she just needed to get close enough to Maeve to let her know about what had happened with the spy.
Eoin had scouted out ahead, and he hurried back toward her. Breana's rush of joy at seeing him again after such a short separation was short-lived, though, when she saw the expression on his face.
"What?" she asked as soon as he reached her behind the treeline where they were concealed. "What is it?"
"Guards," Eoin told her. He looked tense, and when she put her hand on his arm, Breana felt that his muscles were tight. "More of them than there should be."
Breana's stomach lurched at the anxiety in this usually calm man's voice. "What do ye mean? There are bound tae be guards, are there nae?"
"Nae like this. Nae this many, nae so active at dawn," Eoin replied. He ran his fingers through his hair, distress evident in his face. "Breana, this is more serious than I thought. It means…"
Breana looked out toward the castle, just beyond the trees, realization making nausea roil in her stomach. "It means…they might already be in danger."